


Our Dear Sparkling

by Nononlnkink



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Fluff, I just LOVE Skiplight, I'm Sorry, Ink goes crazy with this poor child, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smokescreen N O, Transformer Sparklings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-11-15 09:36:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 6,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11228268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nononlnkink/pseuds/Nononlnkink
Summary: Everything and anything Skiplight, reposted together for easier access.All new Skiplight-related odds and ends will be posted here.





	1. Skiplight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello baby! What are you getting into?

Soft clicking from under his desk drew Prowl’s attention away from his work. Peering out at him were two small blue optics, bright and happy. Prowl smiled at the sparkling. “Why, Light, how did you get down there?” Skiplight crawled out of the dark space and held his tiny hands up to his carrier. Prowl picked up the gray sparkling and carefully arranged him in his lap. Skiplight immediately grabbed a datapad and stuck it in his mouth.

The door swished open as Jazz walked through just in time to see Prowl struggling to get the report out of their creation’s mouth. He set an energon cube on Prowl’s desk and leaned over to tap Skiplight’s nose. “Whatcha got there, spark?” Sparklight spit out the datapad to giggle at his sire.

Prowl shifted the giggly sparkling so that he was out of reach of any other datapads, and scooped up the energon cube. “He’s been quite adventurous today. He somehow managed to throw his toy up onto the top shelf and tried to climb up to retrieve it. I was worried he was going to fall.”

“Heh, yer protocols nearly knocked me out of my chair earlier. I was terrified that something had happened to make you open the bond so much. Must have just been little Light here gettin’ into trouble.”

“Ah,” Prowl’s wings dipped sheepishly, “I apologize.”

“Nothin’ to be apologizin’ for, love.” Jazz leaned over to place a quick kiss against his bonded’s lips. “You want me to take ‘im for a bit?”

Prowl immediately tightened his grip on Skiplight. The sparkling let out a squeak and squirmed to try and escape his carrier. Jazz held up his hands in a placating gesture. Sometimes the Praxian’s carrier protocols could skyrocket into over-protective mode with no warning. Smokescreen had claimed it was because of how precious and important sparklings are to Praxians. Very few were allowed to be around Skiplight without setting Prowl off. Optimus, Elita One, Ratchet, and occasionally- _occasionally_ -Red Alert. Jazz, Smokescreen, and Bluestreak were family so the protocols allowed them near without much fuss, but it was still a struggle to get the first-time carrier to hand over his precious sparkling.

“C’mon Prowler. Smokey and Blue have been dying to see him. I won’t let Blaster or Ironhide try to do that human airplane thing with him again, I swear.” Jazz allowed his visor to snap out of the way so he could do his best puppy-dog eyes. Prowl glared at him before rolling his optics with a sigh. Skiplight was set on the floor. He made a wobbly dash straight into his sire’s legs. Jazz hefted him up and tickled his belly-much to Skiplight’s delight. He shrieked happily and kicked his little legs in glee.

Prowl watched them with a critical optic for a good few kliks before his protocols deemed it safe for Skiplight. He turned his attention to his work, now uninterrupted, and began to read through the scouting mission report that Skiplight had been mouthing. Jazz and the still squealing sparkling left him to work in relative peace.

Until Prowl suddenly sat up straight as his protocols roared to life. Skiplight was projecting glee through their bond, but Jazz’s was more mischievous. Prowl shoved his chair back and raced out of his office to trace down his wayward mate and sparkling. He barraged into the rec room in a carrier-fueled fury.

_“Jazz, I said no more airplanes!”_


	2. You Little Rascal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor dear, always getting into messes.

“Skiplight?”

There was a series of happy clicks then a giggle. Jazz made to move towards his sparkling’s hiding place, but stopped at the feel of amused-annoyed from Prowl’s side of the bond.

Jazz grumbled to himself and sent back a twinge of frustration-panic. Okay, maybe not panic-panic. But sort of panic? Whatever, doesn't matter. Prowl’s laughing at him for losing their sparkling. ::  _Babe_.::

::  _Lost him again?_ ::

::  _No! He’s in the room with me_.::

::  _Have you checked the shelves? He’s been a little terror climbing the ones in my office lately._ ::

::  _You think I haven’t? C’mon-_ :: There was a thud then a sniffle coming from just behind the rec room’s couch. Oh Primus.

::  _Jazz!_ :: Prowl sounded like he was about to go on a rant, so Jazz let his side of the bond close slightly. Just enough to avoid getting distracted from the quiet sobs of their sparkling.

Skiplight was curled up in a ball, big optics collecting fluid. When Jazz rounded the corner and stooped to pick him up, the poor sparkling let out a hiccup. “Oh, poor baby. Did you take a fall?” There was a nod in response. “It sounded like it hurt.”

Skiplight flicked his tiny doorwings. They looked fine, but from what Prowl has said, a fall on the sensitive panels can make one go crazy with pain. ::  _I think he landed on his doorwings._ ::

::  _Do you want me to come?_ :: There was the slight edge to his mate’s voice. Carrier-coding ready to launch into action and wrap the bitlet up somewhere safe. The last time Prowl had been around when Skiplight had gotten hurt - it had been just a little trip - he had nearly taken someone’s head off. You don’t mess with a Praxian carrier or their sparkling. Jazz had been a little curious at why the coding didn’t latch on to him when they bonded, but maybe it was because of their frame differences? Right, right, try to stop the carrier from storming into the rec room and turning it into a warzone.

::  _Nah. I can handle ‘im._ ::

::  _You sure?_ ::

::  _Prowler, seriously_.::

::  _I...I know you can. But-_ ::

::  _No buts! Go finish yer paperwork or whatever_.::

Skiplight had his head cocked, staring up at Jazz curiously. He could feel his carrier’s emotions through their own bond and all of them were directed at his sire. He chirped at the larger mech to gain his attention. Jazz smiled at Skiplight and let his visor retract with a soft  _snick_. The sparkling let out an excited bubbly noise, tiny hands reaching up to search for the visor. Jazz chuckled.

“Feelin’ better, little spark?” A happy chirrup replied. “Ya mind tellin’ your carrier that? I can still feel him worrin’.” This time Skiplight was busy squishing Jazz’s face to pay any attention to his sire’s request.

::  _Prowl-_ ::

::  _He’s fine. Whatever you are doing is making him incredibly happy._ :: 

::  _He’s playing with my face._ ::

The only answer was the equivalent of a snort of amusement. Jazz let the sparkling be, however. If he was happy and Prowl was no longer about to go all ‘mama bear’ or whatever, then Jazz figured he could suffer through it.

“Yer a little rascal, Skiplight, ya know that?” Jazz tilted his face to nuzzle the top of Skiplight’s helm. The sparkling suddenly looked serious and firmly tugged his face down further. Much to the black and white mech’s surprise, Skiplight bopped his nose against Jazz’s in an impression of the same playful action that Prowl would occasionally do. “Okay, fine. Yer an adorable little rascal.”


	3. I Have to Check This Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Earth to Prowl, this is Jazz speaking. (Pre-Skiplight)

“Don’t ya think that’s enough?”

He picked up the soft blue blanket and let it slid through his fingers. It looked like it would be warm enough. He carefully tucked it into the ever growing pile.

“Babe. C’mon - is he really gonna need all’a this?”

Oh, this blanket was red. That would be nice. Blue and red, sire and carrier. It was placed next to the blue blanket. With careful fingers, he brushed some of the smaller toys brought in by their human companions out of the way. Too small, too fragile,  _that_ would most likely getting eaten and choked on.

“Yer scarin’ me a bit here.”

He chuckled at the small wrench he found. A gift from a certain medic perhaps. As long as it didn’t come with the marksman’s aim.

“Smokey! I have no idea what’s gotten into ‘im. Please - oh.  _Thank Primus_. Just hurry, okay?”

He barely heard the swoosh of the door opening behind him. What was that? It looked dangerous. His engine gave an angry rumble at the thought. Nope, that needed to go. Into subspace it went. He’ll make sure it got back to Wheeljack with some stern words.

“Hey, Jazz. What’s going on? Oh.  _Oh_.” There was laughter.

“Don’t laugh about this, Smokey! I don’t know what ta do!” The laughter didn’t stop.

That was getting a little annoying.

“Relax! He’s just making sure that everything is safe. It’s normal - I promise.”

“Are ya sure?”

He turned to look at the two talkers. With on optic ridge raised, he simply asked, “Will you stop worrying and help me? I have found three things from Wheeljack already and I do not trust them.”

“Oh thank Primus, babe. I thought ya’d gone of the deep end on me.”


	4. Mixed Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not everyone is enthused about the Ark's newest member.

Bluestreak watched as Smokescreen wiggled his fingers in front of the giggly sparkling. Okay, yeah sure, he was adorable. Bluestreak would readily admit that aloud. Skiplight was probably the cutest sparkling that he’s ever seen - okay, he was the  _only_ sparkling he’s ever seen, but that’s not the point here. The point is that the little menace was taking up so much of their family’s time. Prowl was a mess compared to his pre-carrying self, Jazz seemed to have Skiplight on his hip whenever he came to visit, and now Smokescreen was the favorite babysitter. Bluestreak hadn’t asked nor been asked to watch over Skiplight, so he assumed that Prowl knew of his conflicting emotions on the sparkling.

The rec room had gone quiet while Bluestreak had been absorbed watching his brother and nephew. Someone else at the table nudged him with their elbow. Blue went to shoot them a glare, but froze when he saw a very ruffled looking Smokescreen and a just as ruffled Jazz standing together facing Prowl. The SIC’s doorwings were minutely trembling. Mad or panicked, one of the two. Blue bounced out of his seat to go see what the matter was. The mech who had elbowed him earlier hissed something along the lines of  _what the frag are you thinking?_

“Blue, you didn’t happen to see Skip toddle off did you?” Smokescreen had a manic pleading glisten to his optics.

“Sorry, I don’t think so. I wasn’t really paying-” At a panicked glare from Jazz, Bluestreak shut his mouth. Right, worried carrier right in front of him. Say one thing wrong and bam! He’d be in the medbay - family or not.

“Maybe he crawled out into the hallway?” Jazz weakly suggested.

Prowl glared at his mate. “I highly doubt that or I would have seen him on my way.” The glare was turned to Smokescreen. “You said you only looked away for a klik?”

“I promise,” Smokescreen even raised one hand in the air, “the kiddo was with me then just gone the next.”

Prowl opened his mouth to growl something, but stiffened instead. He grabbed Jazz’s wrist, spun around, and fled the room. Everyone just watched with wide optics.

“What the frag was that?”

Blue and Smokescreen darted after them. It wasn’t that hard to follow them, considering Jazz was trying to get his panicked mate to explain what was wrong. The two brothers skidded around a corner and found themselves nearly running into the bonded pair. There was the answer. Ravage, a frequent but unwelcomed visitor, had the sparkling at her paws. She wasn’t doing anything, just watching him.

Skiplight was chirping to her as he ran his hands over her forelegs and then reached up to pat her head. The cybercat obliged him by lowering herself into his reach. That won a happy squeak and a hard pat on her snout. Ravage looked up to see the four Autobots staring at them. She flicked her tail and nudged Skiplight towards his creators. The sparkling pouted and tried to cling to her legs, but she stood up and sent the little mech reeling. Prowl lunged forward in time to scoop him up before the sparkling tumbled over. The glare Ravage received could have melted through her.

“We just wanted to see how the sparkling is doing.” Ravage stretched before retreating further away from the fuming carrier. “No harm to him. Carrier merely was curious.”

“You can tell Soundwave to frag off.”

Ravage cocked her head. “I will inform him in a more polite manner. Also on the protectiveness of the sparkling’s carrier.”

Jazz huffed from behind Prowl. “Soundwave is just as protective of you all.”

“That...is true. Interesting.”

“Smokey, mind leading our guest on out?” Jazz ensured that Ravage wasn’t about to make a break for it under the Praxian’s watch. Prowl stood close to him, Skiplight babbling curiously in his arms.

Bluestreak came up to pat the sparkling on the head. He chittered happily before tucking himself up against Prowl’s plating. Prowl smiled at the gibberish, but it was a weary thing. Blue gave a sympathetic chuckle. “Nap time?”

“For more than one of us.” Prowl’s wings drew back to settle out of their defensive position. Jazz lead his mate off along the hallway with one hand on his back. Bluestreak frowned as he watched them, but it didn’t last long.

Was that a smile? Did Skiplight just smile at him?  _Clever_ sparkling, trying to break down his walls with that ridiculously adorable look.


	5. Sparklight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His initials were SL. Skiplight. Sparklight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, but I loved the other note so here it is again:  
> OKAY SO LEMME EXPLAIN OKAY
> 
> When I first came up with Skiplight, I wanted to name him Sparklight, but I was worried it would be confusing. So, what better way to introduce this little nugget? A DEATH FIC THAT'S WHAT.
> 
> THIS IS BASICALLY AN AU OF THE SKIPLIGHT AU, HE IS ALIVE AND WELL.

It was spark-wrenching watching him huddle over the tiny fragile frame. The ever composed mech had screamed -  _screamed_ \- before gathering the body into his arms with choking sobs. Jazz had immediately flew to his side, hands up over his mouth and visor retracted in shock. He fell to his knees to draw the other into a trembling embrace.

“Prowl-”

“He can’t, no, please Primus.  _He can’t die_.”

“Ratchet is comin’. He’ll make it."

The medic didn’t come fast enough. There was no way to save the sparkling, not after taking a stray plasma blast in the chest. His underdeveloped plating was little defence against it. In their grief, the two creators barely noticed being helped to the medbay. Prowl refused to release his grip on his sparkling, snarling at anyone who tried with tears still dripping from his optics. He cradled the grayed body tenderly, as if it would fall apart. He nuzzled the small chevron that used to match the color of wild lavender.

“My Sparklight - my very being.”


	6. Your Turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skiplight enjoys waking up his creators at horrible times.

Jazz nudged Prowl awake. The Praxian wearily onlined his optics and was greeted by the sight of his mate’s eyes. No visor. His thoughts were still muddled so the significance didn’t reach him. Then came a faint whimper from across the room. Prowl froze before rolling over to jump off the berth. Jazz let out a sleepy chuckle before falling back into recharge.

Prowl quietly approached the small berth set across from their own and scooped its sole occupant into his arms. “Skiplight, what is wrong?”

The little sparkling hiccuped and buried his face against his carrier’s plating. The steady thrum of his spark made the little mech feel safe and he began to relax. Prowl hummed softly and slowly walked around the room until Skiplight’s whimpers and hiccups had been replaced with sleepy chirps and clicks.  

It didn’t take long after that for the sparkling to nod off. His little doorwings twitched while his systems smoothed out into barely a whisper. Prowl smiled and nuzzled his creation’s helm. He began to make his way through the dark to put Skiplight back in his berth, but a recharge-muffled grumble from Jazz got his attention. Prowl switched Skiplight so he was carefully cradled in one arm. He tapped Jazz on the shoulder but there was no response. Still out of it then.

Prowl glanced at his berth then at Skiplight’s with a sigh. He arranged the pillows and small blanket so that Skiplight would be comfortable then set the sparkling down. Skiplight immediately curled up next to a pillow, systems making a happy purring noise. His carrier tucked the blanket around him.

The Praxian’s optics were barely lit by the time he was certain Skiplight was fine and had managed to stumble back to berth. He threw himself onto the comfortable surface, waking Jazz as he did. Jazz’s visor was still tucked away and the hazy look to his nearly white optics made Prowl smile. “It is your turn next.”

Jazz grumbled something then pulled Prowl close so they could both get back to recharge.


	7. Lizards and Laughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skiplight found a critter. Jazz is no help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing helps a bad day like writing domestic child fluff.
> 
> Edited version - fixed a few errors and flow.

Why had they thought it was a good idea to let Hound watch Skiplight? He had agreed to leave the two most easily distracted and curious members aboard the Ark to their own devices for a whole shift due to a video conference with a human politician. He couldn’t even blame this one on Jazz.

Prowl had been forced to narrow his bond with Skiplight during the duration of the conference, but the moment it was fully open, he could feel the mischief vibrating through the sparkling. It was intense enough to leak through to Jazz - who smiled, the fragger. Prowl had grumbled about mates who would let their creations do anything before hurrying off to see what damage had been done. At least Jazz had decided it would be in his best efforts to follow his bonded.

Now, it wasn’t that he was expecting anything horrible to have happened. Prowl was more worried about having an extended wash time for Skiplight. Trying to clean him up was always a messy and lengthy affair, so one could understand why Prowl would be dreading finding a sparkling coated helm to pede with mud.

Mirage seemed to have sensed they were coming and opened the hab suit door before either of them had actually made it there. He greeted them with a nod and cracked a slight smile. “I promise I kept them in check.”

Skiplight - mud free, thank Primus - was perched in Hound’s lap, optics wide as he watched something in the tracker’s cupped hands. When his creators came in, his attention was only briefly diverted towards them. Jazz chuckled. Hound looked up at the noise and beamed.

“He’s a real sweetheart,” he shifted so that Skiplight could see better, “I took him outside to walk around and he kept pointing at everything with the biggest optics I’ve ever seen.”

“Ya like goin’ outside, kiddo?” Jazz laughed again when the sparkling nodded enthusiastically.

Skiplight reached out to grab whatever had held his interest in Hound’s hands. He squirmed until he was set on the floor then immediately made a beeline to Prowl. The Praxian picked him up and settled the sparkling on his hip. “What do you have?”

“Found!” Skiplight beamed at his carrier, opening his hands to reveal a lizard. The poor little creature was just big enough to be unable to wiggle out of the sparkling’s hands, but small enough it was a mystery how Hound had managed to hold it. The lizard flicked its tongue out, making Skiplight giggle.

“Very nice, spark.”

The pleading optics Prowl was suddenly pinned by made the rest of the room laugh.

“Keep?”

“No,” Prowl sighed, “the lizard should go back outside.” The sparkling huffed and pouted. The wonderfully useless bondmate of Prowl’s burst into a fit of coughing that did a horrible job of covering his snickers.

“Find and keep!”

“Finders-keepers doesn’t apply to living beings, Skiplight.”

“Keep!”

“No.”

“Carrier, please!”

“No, Skiplight.”

Then the pouting Skiplight turned to Jazz with his optics wide and innocent. “Sire, keep?”

Prowl shot him a glare. _::Don’t you dare.::_

Jazz managed to school his features into something less amused, but only for klik. The gleeful grin had already appeared once more as he shook his head. “Sorry, baby, your carrier said no.” Skiplight hiccuped and optic fluid began to drip down his cheeks. All amusement was wiped from Jazz’s face and field as his sparkling began to rather convincingly sob. “Skip-”

The cries only got louder.

Prowl sighed. “Skiplight, if you were taken from the Ark, you would want to go back, yes?” A teary nod. “The lizard wants to go back home, too.”

It was like a switch had been flipped. Skiplight hushed and peered down at the lizard curled in his hands. “Oh. Home?”

“Yes. He lives outside, so his home is outside. Wouldn’t you like to take him back?”

The sparkling nodded, last of his tears slipping off his cheeks. Prowl smiled and nuzzled the top of Skiplight’s helm. “Good job. Let’s take him back outside then.” Prowl then turned the slight smile on Hound. “Thank you for watching Skiplight.”

“It, uh, it was no problem,” Hound exclaimed with a brilliant smile. "He really was a blast to have for a bit.” Mirage fondly rolled his optics.

“Home!” Skiplight reminded them. Everyone gave the sparkling a smile.

“Very well. We will let him go while your sire gets your energon ready.” Prowl shot an amused look at Jazz when he spluttered. With that, Prowl hefted Skiplight back up and gave a grateful nod to Mirage then left. Jazz grumbled as he followed them out. Before the hab door could shut, Mirage and Hound heard Prowl add, “Maybe he could even give you a bath today.”

Jazz’s groan nearly sent both of them into fits of laughter.


	8. Fireworks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skiplight decides he likes fireworks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 4th of July to my American readers! 
> 
> I always love the firework show my city puts on every year so have Skiplight enjoying a show too.

Skiplight bounced on the tips of his pedes as he waited for Carrier to finally finish whatever work he was doing. Even though Carrier wasn't looking at him, Skiplight could feel a the amusement from the larger mech at his excitement. He couldn't help it! He wanted to see the humans' fireworks!

Wheeljack's weren't really meant for younger audiences - if they worked as predicted, of course. Then again, Skiplight had heard Sire call them 'fireworks nonetheless'. Maybe the humans had some magic that made their fireworks different? Or maybe they were special because of the time? Skiplight wasn't really sure and didn't truly care at this point. Big, noisy explosions were explosions and he wanted to see some pretty ones!

Spike had promised that the fireworks were pretty, but Skiplight figured he could step on the human if he was lying. A displeased pulse from Carrier made the youngling pause in his fidgeting and give the older mech a sheepish smile. When Carrier seemed appeased, Skiplight returned to bouncing up and down.

By the time Carrier was finished and had ushered the youngling out, the poor thing could barely contain his excitement. Not even the amusement from his Carrier could dampen it.

Sire joined them just before leaving the Ark. He had jogged up, pecked Carrier on the lips, and picked up the youngling to nuzzle the little purple chevron. Skiplight loudly protested the treatment even as Sire carried him out of the crashed ship and secured him in Carrier's alt-mode. He was quickly distracted by trying to convince Carrier that his lights and sirens were absolutely necessary for the drive.

Skiplight pouted the entire trip when Carrier firmly refused.

Any foul mood evaporated, however, when story arrived at a small park just outside the human city. Sire transformed and released the excited and curious hell spawn. Skiplight practically flew around the park, inspecting this and that, asking if this or that was a firework. Sire laughed while Carrier gently corrected him. By the third time he asked if there was a firework hidden in a tree, Skiplight was beginning to get disappointed. Where were the fireworks? The rest of the off-duty Autobots and their human friends had since joined them, but no one was telling him anything!

With a pout most certainly worthy of his Sire, Skiplight made himself comfortable in Carrier's lap to wait until he could go back home.

A resounding crack followed by a flash of glittering gold and red in the sky startled him. At first, Skiplight's immediate response was to cry out and get away from such a loud noise, but when no one else seemed to be worried - they all seemed excited by the noise and color - Skiplight glared at the sky to find what had made the sky light up and make noise. This time there was a boom that shook his struts and an accompanying red, white, and blue lights exploding across the sky.

Skiplight sat transfixed by the view until the finale. The show was wrapped up by multiple explosions all of the same red, white, and blue and shattering noise. The last one lit up the night and faded away with a sprinkle of gold that warped into strange shapes by the wind.

He was jostled slightly, but ignored the movement to try and search out more of the colorful flashes. His focus did earn a small hum from Sire and a quick bond exchange between his creators that went too fast for him to follow - should he have been so inclined.

"You enjoyed the fireworks?" The gentle, soft voice of Carrier broke into his concentration. Skiplight twisted around to face the other to beam and nod his head.

"Good!" Sire leaned over to bop the youngling's nose. "The humans here do this every year to celebrate a holiday."

Skiplight perked up, "Again?"

Sire's laughter rumbled with his engine. "Sorry, sweetspark, not 'til next year."

"'Jack?"

Skiplight gave himself a moment to bask in the panic and ' _no no no bad idea_ ' from Carrier. It wouldn't be a problem to go to the inventor with his best pleading optics and beg for some fireworks.

 


	9. Bath Time!

“No!”

Jazz pleadingly looked at his bitlet standing in the door of their washracks with his little arms folded over his chest and a promising pout on his face. He could  _ hear  _ Prowl snickering from the other room, but his bondmate appeared content to remain on the berth reading instead of helping get Skiplight into his bath.

“Please, Skip?” Jazz crouched down and made a face when Skiplight’s wings hiked up and his tiny face turned away. “What if I let Cosmos give ya an extra treat next time?”

The promise of a treat seemed to reach the stubborn sparkling and he perked up. “Treat?”

“Yeah, one of those pink ones.” Jazz gave Skiplight his best smile. The sparkling seemed to consider it for a moment before nodding and holding his arms up so his sire could pick him up. With a victorious chuckle, Jazz swept the sparkling off his pedes and plopped him into a small basin. “Ya promise not to kick the solvent everywhere this time?”

“Kick bad,” Skiplight declared solemnly as he allowed Jazz to start scrubbing at his plating with no fuss. 

“That’s the spirit, love.”

Jazz was sure to be quick, but thorough. His little hellion could behave fine until the bath started running lukewarm. Once Skiplight wanted to get out, he was sure to put his all behind the desperate scrapple out of the wash basin. Water and solvent would get everywhere and then there would be even more to clean up - a tired creator’s nightmare. The less mess, the less everyone would be grumbling and the faster they could all get to recharge.

The bitlet yawned as he was picked up, sat on a towel, and carefully dried. His dimming optics brightened momentarily when Prowl, still chuckling, came in. “Ready for bed, little one?”

“Bed,” Skiplight agreed with sleepy happiness. Prowl smiled and hefted the bitlet onto his hip. With a wink at Jazz, the Praxian disappeared into the other room to put the sparkling to recharge. Jazz grumbled as he was left to clean up.

Skiplight was already out by the time Prowl had gently arranged him in his little berth and Jazz had emerged from the washracks. They fell into their berth and were sent into twin giggling fits when Prowl bounced a little from Jazz’s dramatic flop onto the soft coverings.

Jazz leaned over to press a kiss to Prowl’s chrevon and pull the Praxian closer. “Mhm, night.”

Prowl’s engine purred in response. As they grew comfortable, recharge creeping up, a small voice suddenly echoed out, “Carrier? Sire bath.” Skiplight was holding onto his crib bars, watching his creators with big optics. He was clearly surprised that Jazz hadn’t gotten clean before going to recharge as well. Prowl was immediately sent into another fit a exhausted laughter when Jazz rolled his optics. “Sire bath then recharge.”

“You heard him,” Prowl nudged Jazz out of the berth, “you need a bath as well.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz and Prowl are busy, busy and can't always keep their bitlet with them. Babysitting the little terror is always an adventure.
> 
> (Let me know if there are any others you'd like to see having to deal with Skiplight's antics!)

Sparklings are great! Nothing can compare to their adorable faces, tiny chirps, or constant demand for attention! He wanted one for himself!

Was...was that convincing? Red Alert knew from the expression on Inferno’s faceplates, that it was, in fact, not even close. With an annoyed grumble of his engine, the security director handed the little bundle of joy to the other mech. “I’ll be watching the cameras,” Red Alert said sullenly.

Inferno watched his mate leave their room with amused optics. “You were being a right little hellspawn, weren’t you?”

Skiplight giggled and reached for Inferno’s fingers.

* * *

 

Blaster watched Ramhorn attempt to teach the bitlet how to correctly stack up the blocks. Red side faced north, blue south, green towards the west, and yellow towards the east. Skiplight was much more amused with knocking down the carefully arranged piles. If it weren’t for his siblings’ laughter at his failure and the bitlet’s mess, Ramhorn would have probably huffed off. Rewind sat next to Skiplight and helped the sparkling set up the blocks while Ramhorn glared at the floor. Eject let out a squeal when one block was kicked by their sibling and nearly collided with their helm.

“Careful!”

Rewind turned a pout towards Skiplight, “You’re lucky that you’re the only creation.”

“I heard that!”

Ramhorn and Steeljaw both look equally offended. Steeljaw pounced on Rewind and nearly landed atop Skiplight. The sparkling shifted one doorwing out of the way just as the little mechalion flatted his brother.

Everyone held their breath. If Skiplight so much as sniffled, there’d be a pissed Praxian at their door or a more amused than angry Jazz if the universe was kind. Instead of the dreaded tears, Skiplight only laughed at the cassettes’ antics.

Blaster let out a vent of relief.

* * *

 

“Don’t touch that, Skip.”

The sparkling looked over at his guardian for the shift with wide, innocent optics. “No touch?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Give treat?”

“Nice try, sparkling. Bribery might work on Jack, but not me.”

Skiplight gave a tiny huff and stomped his pede. “Touch!”

Ratchet couldn’t help but roll his optics at the sparkling’s oh-so familiar stubbornness. With a defeated sigh, Ratchet hefted the bitlet onto one of the berths and gave him an old scanner. It had a few more buttons and flashing lights than the new models, but that only made it all the more appealing for a youngling.  Before the medic could turn away, Skiplight tapped his arm and pointed towards the bag that had a few of his favorite toys and snacks that Prowl had left. Ratchet obediently brought it over for the sparkling to dig around in. With serious concentration, Skiplight looked through the bag’s contents until his optics lit up. He held up a half-empty box of rust sticks and carefully picked one out. He held it out to Ratchet.

With a chuckle, the medic accepted the treat. “Thanks, bitlet.”

Skiplight solemly nodded - it was his favorite treat after all, it was a true honor to be given one - and turned his attention back to the scanner.

* * *

 

Prowl had been hesitant to hand Skiplight over to Mirage for the meeting, but it was either the spy or Cliffjumper and every part of his coding had been very clear that Skiplight was not to be left with the loud, hostile minibot. Although he had lowered his voice and kept expletives out whenever the sparkling was nearby...No! Even Jazz had been a little hesitant about Cliff having Skiplight while they were out.

That didn’t make it any easier for Prowl to carefully settle Skiplight on the floor in Mirage’s room. Usually Hound was there. Primus, was Prowl nervous. Mirage may have been willing to watch the sparkling with his mate, but he had never said anything about when Hound was not present.

He bid Mirage farewell and a hasty thank-you before leaving to join Jazz in the hallway. “He’ll be fine, love.” Prowl wasn’t sure whether he meant Skiplight or Mirage.

The meeting took less than an orn and Jazz had to keep his bonded from dashing into the Ark. He kept Prowl walking slowly beside him - had to wean the overprotective Carrier coding somehow - and chatted about whatever ridiculous human things he had noticed. Prowl would respond with short, clipped words.

The trek to Mirage’s room took too long. Prowl hadn’t felt any discomfort from the bond, but he was still nervous to knock. Jazz did and Mirage immediately opened the door. White powder covered the usually immaculate mech and both black and whites froze at the sight. Jazz began to cackle, bending over to hold his stomach. Mirage frowned and huffed.

“It’s all your sparkling’s fault.”

“Sure, Raj, sure.” Jazz beamed at the spy in amusement.

Mirage let them in and sure enough, the rest of the room was sprinkled in the white powder. Skiplight sat in the middle of the couch, excitedly bouncing up and down, arms out for one of his creators to pick him up. Prowl did so, and was relieved that the bitlet was clean.

“What is this?” Mirage suddenly found something interesting in the corner of the room. Jazz began to laugh harder. The spy muttered something and Prowl leaned in, frowning. “What was that?”

“Flour."

“Where’d ya get flour?” Jazz huffed between bouts of laughter. “Please don’t say one a’ the kids.”

“Carly was kind enough to suggest attempting to bake something as she always does that with the human children she watches.”

Prowl fought the smile trying to surface. “So you used human components?”

“Sparklings make messes, I had assumed that this would be easier to clean.”

* * *

 

Skiplight was holding one card upside down and the rest had found their way into his mouth. Normally, Smokescreen would dream of having game night in his hab suite if he had the bitlet, but it had been a stressful few orns and he’d be slagged if he postponed it again. The sparkling wasn’t old enough to understand what was going on, but Smokescreen had felt guilty keeping the bitlet just on his lap while he destroyed the others, so he had fished out some old cards for Skiplight.

It was now his turn so Smokescreen gave the little mech a nudge. Wide optics suddenly met the rest of the table and he beamed. A soggy card was slapped onto the table.

“You’re lucky he isn’t playing for real,” Smokescreen laughed.

Trailbreaker huffed from across the table. “You’d be losing too, Smokes.”

“Nah, he’s my nephew and Prowl’s bitlet. I’d have to _responsibly_ keep his earnings.”

“Sneaky,” Bumblebee sighed.

The table forked over a few rust sticks each - provided by Smokescreen, of course - and Skiplight happily took the handful. The cards were quickly replaced by all five treats.

 Smokescreen sent a glare to the rest of the table. “If anyone tells Prowl how much treats Skip had tonight, you’re dead.”


	11. Curious Troublemaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to add this from Warm-Ups.
> 
> Sparklings are curious little things, aren't they?

Skiplight watched his creators with a curious glint to his optics. Both of his creators knew  _that_ look - Prowl had seen it too many times on Jazz’s face before the special ops mech did something stupid and Jazz knew it because everyone complained that the look never boded well for those in the ‘splash zone’. Of course, when did that stop him? Never. Not once. Prowl still grumbles about the last time Jazz thought it was a good idea to rig the Ark with a stereo system that had immediately made Red Alert panic.

So when they saw it on their innocent little sparkling? Prowl threw his hands in the air and sat down on the couch with a long-suffering sigh. Jazz beamed at Skip and swept the bitlet into his arms. “And they said he’d turn out like you!”

* * *

 

“Hey Prime...what are ya doin’?”

“Ah, Ironhide. Wonderful timing. Would you mind assisting me in getting young Skiplight out from the vent?”

“Does Prowl or Jazz know?”

“They won’t have to if you help me quickly.”

When Prowl walked into Prime’s office a shift later, he found Optimus looking rather dusty and a very happy sparkling in his arms.

* * *

 Skiplight stretched and leant back against the wall. His creators were still in their meeting and he promised he’d wait for them, but he was  _so_ bored. What’s the point of getting your frame upgrades if you get stuck sitting around and waiting for some boring meeting? The youngling cast a glance down the hallway with a slight smirk.

If he was fast enough and didn’t go too far, maybe he could get a quick drive in before his creators came out. His engine rumbled at the thought and without wasting any more time, Skiplight lunged down the hallway and transformed. His go-kart altmode may seem hilarious to the fully grown Autobots, but it was all Skip needed to find himself in trouble.

Oh, Carrier is going to be  _so_ mad.


End file.
